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We walked approximately a mile, so David believes, before deciding to rest. We snuck into a lifeguard’s booth…and sat there, enjoying the stillness and the beautiful white moon, small and perfectly round, the size of a dime. We kissed, back and forth, which put the three of us in an amorous mood. I don’t think any of us wanted to get up, but we did want to go back to our hotel for a nightcap. We stood up, a bit sleepily on my part. They went down, and I followed, taking pictures of the moon. I didn’t look carefully— and I put my foot down in an unfortunate position. Crack! Have you ever felt a “shooting pain”? I hadn’t realized that you could feel that way. Did you know, too, that you can feel a literal icy cold wash over you? When I traveled to Burning Man with my friends, I’d taken, let’s say medicine. It puts me in a chemically enhanced happy place. Unfortunately, at one point, I lost my friends. I thought I’d lost my friends. I instantly felt an ice-cold fear— and again, this night, I learned the meaning of this new pain.Turns out they were right behind me the whole time. Friends are amazing.
I collapsed and shrieked at the same time. I’m a bit surprised I didn’t black out, but, God, that hurt! I’m attracted to the illusion and simulation of pain. I’m a fan of that little spiked wheel that kinksters — why did that want to autocorrect to “ministers”— sometimes ply over one’s skin. I did not like this. I couldn’t stand up, let alone walk. I hated myself, as I did whenever I hurt myself. Why couldn’t I have paid attention to where I put my foot?
David didn’t want to leave me there on the beach, even with Amy. He didn’t know her. So, he carried me the mile back to where we’d parked by the restaurant. Amy showed slightly less sympathy; she kept telling me to get over it. David grew more and more irritated, as he informed me later. I’m in too much in pain to notice anything. I desperately clung around him, trying not to hurt him, too. That reaction from Amy did not appeal to David. He later remarked that if I had to ruin a great romantic moment by twisting my ankle, at least I did so before the threesome, so at least we wouldn’t have wasted our time. Sex may have been fun, but it came a clear second to my health. We lost touch with Amy after this. Ah, well, the date itself had been wonderful— up to the point I twisted my ankle.
Someone asked me if I’m afraid that he might cheat on me. But I wasn’t. We had only two rules, be honest and be good to each other. If he wasn’t good to me, I’d know and leave. If he lied, I’d find out sooner or later, and I knew he wasn’t stupid enough to risk losing the relationship over an unnecessary lie. I don’t date unintelligent people.
It’s one of my hard limits.
* * *
September 17, 3:00pm
The world doesn’t just stop justbecause I was recovering from my beach mishap. And Lysandra, David and I had already agreed to go on a short cruise together. Four days, three nights, just the three of us. We had all the logistics ready, booked two cabins across from each other, plane tickets, excursions, everything. It worked out really well – we were supposed to close a deal with a new client, Melissa, and her investors in the cruise-port city that week.So, it was a technically a work trip.
We, our company, presented Melissa and her team to our investors. Finally, we’d achieved the end. I felt pretty good about everything. But I guess she felt differently. We had the whole meeting all lined up. This morning, before the meeting took place, our client vanished. No, I’m not joking. They stopped responding to any of us, including their point of contact, my coworker who also happened to be my friend. They even took down their website. It’s like they vanished from the planet. Maybe she left with Lysandra. Because she ghosted us at the same time. I never heard from either of them again. Nor did David.
But that didn’t change the fact that we had the cruise plans – this week! So, we had our meetings internally, without the clients or girlfriends and went back to the hotel for the night. That’s when my guardian angel must have intervened, but because Laura called. She had just broken up with John and needed us.
“Too bad we’re in Florida and you’re in California,” I said.
“What are you doing in Florida?” she asked.
“Going on a cruise,” answered David.
“I’m in Palm Beach,” she said. “That’s where John left me after we broke up. I need a ticket home.”
“Do you have your passport,” asked David?
“Yeah, never go anywhere without it,” she answered.
“Well, then, give us your address and we’ll come get you. And we have a spare cabin for you. Funny story,” I said.
So, clients ghosted us, girlfriend ghosted us, no problem. We just had Laura fall back into our lap out of the blue. I like Laura.I’m liking her more and more, to be honest.
* * *
14
Kitten and a Bigger Boat
September 19, 2:45pm
Just because I’d twisted my ankle — and wheeled myself around on a scooter— didn’t mean we had to cancel my birthday celebration! We had the time. We were in Florida already for business. No telling when we could get another chance like this – for months, if that. Lys was going to come with us since it was her birthday week too. We had two cabins booked across from each other. That way, Lys would have her own space to retreat to, if necessary, but we expected that she’d spend the entire time in our cabin. It’s a good, solid plan. Except Lys ghosted us.
So, upgrade? Laura is sitting next to me at the terminal looking the part of a fabulous cruiser. I adore her. David loves her, and she loves us. And her birthday is coming up as well.This will be an epic time. I can feel it.
And it goes simply wonderfully. Well, with one hitch.
Car is dropping us off at the pier, right? Him, me, and her. All packed up and ready to go. I breathe in the salt air and ignore the stupid seagulls. No, seagulls I don’t have any cracker crumbs for you. Go away.
We’re all set to go. We do our final checks, and he realizes that he left his sailing jacket at the hotel. Which, this being Florida, wouldn’t be a big deal. Except his passport is inside the damn jacket. The boat leaves in two hours. I am going to kill him. I wanted him there, with us, having fun for once! God knows when we’re going to have another chance to disappear from human society for a few days. I fully intend to disconnect (except maybe to play my kitty game).
But you know what?Iam not going to stay, just because he’s an idiot. No, I am going to get on this ship. So, Laura and I board without him. We sit down in the main lobby with this huge fancy glass elevator and order big, pink cocktails. Because we can. Fancy sparkle drinks with tiny umbrellas and, oooh, yes, my favorite cherries. Not the plastic red chemical balls, but the ones soaked in brandy (or something like brandy). Can I just have them bring a jar of them over? Okay, maybe I get a little obsessive, if you haven’t noticed.
Hmmm, that drink disappeared quicker than I meant. I order another round. I know that there’s a cost to it, but it’s so easy to just flash my cruise card. It’s not even swiping a credit card, it’s just a…name tag. Yeah, a name tag with a bill at the end of the trip, but whatever. I keep drinking. I wonder what I want for dinner. It is 3pm, after all.
My pink concoction is making me soft and smiley. I’m already relaxing into “cruise mode,” as I’m calling it. Not that I’ve been on a cruise since I was nine and I did this Tijuana cruise with my Girl Scout troop. The pool crashed back and forth when it got really rocky out and my friends and I squealed as it tossed us up and down. Good memories of my stint as a child laborer selling drugs, a.k.a. Girl Scout cookies. Tiny drug peddlers are what we were. But, you know, legal drugs, so it was all good. I still buy Girl Scout cookies, so clearly, I’m a high-functioning addict. That’s the point, right? It’s not might that makes right, it’s competency. They’regoodcookies. And I’m absolutely not addicted. I only order a few boxesoncea year. If I divide the number of cookies by days in the year, that’s practically a negative number of cookies.
